Tʜᴇ Pᴀᴛʜ Tᴏ Hɪɢʜɢᴀᴛᴇs

Mɪsғᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴇ Oғ Mɪsᴇʀʏ

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 47

You sat and stared into the wilds beyond, the house only a minute away, the pebbled driveway coming into view.

There was a chill in the air. A silence flew between. The clouds parted above, the sun fell further away from its pale partner. The day was nearly over, and with it, your patience was wearing thin.

No one had said a single word the whole ride back. Soviet picked up quite quickly that he shouldn't ask questions— if your wide eyes and frazzled expression gave any indication.

You had stumbled mindlessly in the dark for what felt like hours. The poison air coiling around your throat and suffocating you slowly. It wasn't hard to see how Reich had gotten so sick so fast, it had gotten to the point where you had to put on a gas mask. In the end, it was probably the only thing that had saved your life.

It was impossible to see anything. All you could see was oblivion, the dark void that stared into your eyes— no matter how far you stretched your lids, there was nothing that revealed itself to you.

You stumbled aimlessly, holding one hand out, grasping at thin air, crying constantly, screaming for someone to come get you, Reich, or whatever else was down there. But Reich was at the crossroads, gasping for air, choking on the same breeze that was suffocating you. He couldn't save you.

Even if he somehow heard your screams, the moment your eyes began to flicker, your throat clogged and lungs muddy— the moment you decided to put on the gas mask stole all possibility that he could have saved you. He would never have heard you through it.

In your mind, he had left. He was close to the exit, and with no sounds of him rushing to come save you, nor the shine of his flashlight getting closer, you thought he left. You wouldn't blame him, it was only the right thing to do. But he had stayed— vomiting and gasping, coughing and spitting— waiting for you, not wanting to abandon you, even if he couldn't stand any longer. He sat and waited, wheezing loudly.

His constant coughing fits and gagging were what led you back. You dropped into him, crying and snotty. Thanking him for staying, even after you'd been the one to leave him. You helped each other out, and fell pathetically into the car, Soviet making his decision to just drive instead of speaking.

But then you started thinking.

What a mistake.

You started thinking all the time. The entire ride back. And the longer you thought, the more you realised how messed up it all was. How close you had gotten to falling down, and never getting back up again.

You cleared your throat, looked down and played with your fingers around the bat, your voice muttery and broken. "I want to quit this."

Reich jumped up instantly, his eyes wide. Though, you only just noticed, he didn't have his hat on anymore. "Nein pleaze don't zay zat, ve're zo cloze, just—" You cut him off, jumping in your seat. "No this is so fucked up at this point."

Reich shrunk down under your hard gaze, his muddied face pulled down, exhaustedly. "Some guy was in a mausoleum, there's a whole network of underground passageways under a graveyard— where might I add, a man who seems like he's been following us is— come on like, the whole concept of needing gas masks is insane!"

But Reich shook his head, his eyes closed in anguish. He was still shaken up, you could tell, but it was amazing how he still wanted to continue after all that had happened. "But ve're zo cloze to figuring vat's actually happening, und don't vorry about zee graveyard or anyzing anymore, ve von't have to go looking far anymore."